


Prettier Loved

by AKnightOfAGoodKing



Category: Aquaman (2018)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Body Worship, Crack, Fanfiction, Fluff and Humor, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 10:24:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17579093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKnightOfAGoodKing/pseuds/AKnightOfAGoodKing
Summary: Excerpt:[He had become prettier loved, they said, and Timon was bearing witness to this statement, trying to keep his professionalism as the Atlantean reached up to the prince's inner thighs. (Who would have known that such a powerful man could be so soft?)][DO NOT REPOST/REUSE  MY WORK(S) WITHOUT MY ACKNOWLEDGEMENT AND PERMISSION]





	Prettier Loved

**Author's Note:**

> There's literally no reason for me to write this, Orm just gets me horny on the main. >__< There might be more, I kinda want to add this to my main Aquaman work, [Heirs & the Breath of Life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17197655).

Timon was honored to have been hired by the royal court. He'd been a masseuse for over ten years, no longer young but definitely not much older than most of his client. Today marked his most prolific job as he was there at the palace for _the_ Prince Orm, brother to their king Arthur.

The befell king had been well loved, and even now, having yielded the throne, Atlantis still admired him, the man who was almost Ocean Master. Prince Orm loved his people, and it showed how he took the people into consideration. He was the people's counselor in the king's court, and even before he began to growing his hair longer, the people designated him as one of the most attractive figures in the city.

Prince Orm's personal guard, Baptiste, was the one who escorted Timon to the prince's private quarters, and the masseuse felt his heart pounding in his chest. He was both excited and nervous, never been in the presence of royalty alone before.

“Satisfy the prince and you will be rewarded well,” Baptiste told him at the door. “Otherwise, it's up to him to decide what to do with you. I'd recommend keeping quiet as much as possible.”

Timon nodded hastily, and the door was open to him, closing behind him like a tomb. The man immediately took Baptiste's advice, faced with a beautiful man with long yellow hair and bright blue eyes. Timon had never seen the sky in the surface world before, but he assumed it looked like _that_. The masseuse was awestruck, his heart pierced by a great love and admiration for the prince who was wearing only a robe.

The prince was sitting on a bench, getting up. “Do your job well, and you will be rewarded,” he said, repeating the guard stationed outside. He frowned. “Though if you just left, that would've be preferred.”

Timon felt dread, was he being dismissed without doing anything? He wanted to give the prince a good time.

“Well, get on with this,” the prince said, now reclining onto the divan couch in the room. The blonde was laid back, eyes closed. “The quicker this is over, the better.”

The masseuse, a little stunned, came over to the prince, and Timon tentatively started with the other man's feet, pressing into the meat in circular motions to promote better circulation. Timon thought the prince's feet were beautiful shaped, his toes long and elegant, as he massage between each and every one of them. (He wanted to kiss each and every one of them, as if kissing venerated objects.) The prince hummed appreciatively.

Taking his time, but doing his best work, Timon moved slowly from the prince's feet to his ankles to his calves to his thighs. It was like caressing a beautiful statue with how muscular and well defined the prince was, training since young to be the strongest warrior, and the scars did not mar the prince's appeal but added to it, showing that he had survived battles.

But there was something new that the people Atlantis liked about their prince. Ever since he yielded the throne and became loyal to his brother, the prince had become _docile_ , his expression softened. Handsome as he was, this attitude had made him pretty, a feminine grace that had been missing from the court since Queen Atlanna was sent to the Trenches. Some whispered said that it was because King Arthur had been a good brother to the prince, and it unlocked a side that the people had never seen of Prince Orm.

 _He had become prettier loved_ , they said, and Timon was bearing witness to this statement, trying to keep his professionalism as the Atlantean reached up to the prince's inner thighs. (Who would have known that such a powerful man could be so soft?)

“How are you feeling, your highness?” Timon dared to ask. “Would you like me to continue?”

The prince hummed, nodding wordlessly, flipping around onto his stomach, and he pulled off his robe, revealing his nakedness. There were not many clients who were shy, but Timon was in disbelief that he was the one who had been blessed to see the prince so exposed, eyeing greedily at the curves of his hips and his shoulders, the sharp lines of his torso and arms.

Timon was thankful that the prince kept his eyes closed as he settled back down on the couch, arms pillowing his head, the masseuse feeling hot in the face. He began again, starting at the prince's lower back, and he slid his hands down the curves of the prince's body, not lifting away as he continued down the prince's outer thighs. Then he slid his thumbs back up, pressing them into a portion of the prince's ass. Timon bit his lips to repress a beastial groan. He kept his jaws clenched as he forced himself to continue, lest the prince noticed something was wrong. As the Atlantean worked on the prince's back, he had to keep in mind to remain professional, though he did linger longer than he should've.

Once he overcame the obstacle of the prince's back, Timon ran his hands over the prince's arms, the other man moving them to give the Atlantean better access, and losing himself for just a moment, Timon placed his hands over the prince's entwining their fingers though it served no purpose. The prince didn't seem to know enough about the practice that he didn't make any indication to protest it. Entwined together, Timon let himself fantasize, imagining himself as the prince's lover and they were in the throes of passion. Timon quickly moved on when the moment past.

“If you would turn, your highness,” the Atlantean softly said, floating back a bit to give the prince space (and to watch).

The prince hummed, sounding relaxed fortunately, and he almost turn over onto his back, placing his arms to his side. His eyes were closed.

Timon floated over above the prince, inches away at first so their lips could have met if only he had the gauls (and his last will) to kiss this beautiful man. He resisted, continuing again at the prince's thighs. The prince's thighs were muscular, Timon touching them almost jealousy, but when the Atlantean heard a quiet moan as he moved up to the prince's pelvis, thumbing over the man's v-shaped definition, he was filled with lust once more, wanting to touch more and more.

The Atlantean's only saving grace was by looking up the prince's body, forcibly removing his eyes from the other's flaccid cock to the sharp curve of his hips (which Timon wanted _to caress_ ), to the defined lines of his abdomen ( _to lick_ ), to the prince's chest ( _to bite_ ). It was only when his eyes came back down that Timon was then stunned by the marking on the prince's navel, nearly coming to a stop as he recalled an old wives’ tale. In his excitement, he missed it the first time.

_Aphrodite loved a man from before the fall of Atlantis, and she gifted upon their descendants a symbol which changes in hue when they first learn intimacy. Then shall Aphrodite's blood make more beautiful her children mortal._

Overcome with passion, Timon drew himself away, not trusting himself to continue until he had a moment to calm down for he was filled with _need_. It was painful, really, to deny himself this chance _tolicktokisstocaresstofu—_

“Are you done?” the prince cut in, opening one eye in a slit in questioning annoyance. He was unaware about the mark on the middle of his chest. He started to get up, grabbing his robe.

“No!” Timon shouted out of turn. He stopped, realizing that he just _shouted_ at the prince, but he quickly forced out a laugh, looking apologetic. “No, no, your highness, we're not done yet, I just needed a moment to let your body relax. I intend to do my best to give you what you deserve.”

Prince Orm looked at him in doubt, but he closed his eyes again. _Do not give off killer intent,_ Timon had figured, _or else he'll know._ The Atlantean went back to doing his job, and slowly, but surely, the full-body massage had come to an end.

“Was that to your satisfaction, your highness?” the masseuse asked, floating back with a low bow.

The prince hummed again, sounding drowsy, and he sat up, reaching for his robe. “You've served your purpose,” he said, reclining back onto the couch with an arm under his head. His blue eyes peered through the other man. “What is your name?”

“T— Timon,” the Atlantean stuttered out, honored that the prince had ask. He had not moved from his position yet, though he lifted his head slightly to look. “It was an honor to serve you, your highness.”

“I’ll remember you. You're dismissed, Timon.”

A dreadfully sinful shiver ran through the Atlantean's spine all the way to his half-hard cock. “Thank you, your highness, I'll always be ready to return back to your service.”

The prince gave him a nod of acknowledgement, and Timon more or less bolted out of there, not even noticing when the personal guard Baptiste called out for him. The Atlantean had something far important to deal with, mainly his growing erection.

As he relieved himself after swimming all the way back to his home in the city. Timon thought of the prince, how beautiful the man was, unguarded and exposed, about the kind of things he'd do to the prince. He came at the thought of the mark on the prince's navel.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking of continuing on with rumors spreading, Orm becoming Atlantis' most sought after bachelor/maiden, and Arthur trying to comprehend all of this while laughing his ass off. I think it would be funny . . .
> 
> If you like my work(s), please check out [my Twitter](https://twitter.com/kappachyun?s=09).


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